


Hit the Lights

by spiritualmachines



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Sexual Content, Sibling Incest, Sibling Rivalry, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritualmachines/pseuds/spiritualmachines
Summary: Excerpt:“Sorry.”Prompt: Heartfelt ApologyPhoto:Click





	Hit the Lights

**Author's Note:**

> *This story is from Zac's POV.
> 
> This installment of the Forget-Me-Not Challenge 2015 ties into an earlier story in the challenge - [Starry Night](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FMN_2015/works/14955821) \- so you may want to check out that story before reading this one.

After smoothing things over with Taylor to the best of my ability, I retreated back into the house with every intention of sleeping off the day’s dramatic events. But I couldn’t remember the last time my life had gone anywhere near according to plan, and that night was no exception.

I told myself that this time around, things were finally going to be different. We weren’t going to fall into the same old habits and damaging patterns. I genuinely wanted to reform myself—not only for my own benefit, but for Isaac’s. This toxic cycle had been stuck on repeat for far too long. However, the moment we climbed into Taylor’s SUV and headed for Texas in order to kick off this year’s Fools Banquet, it was like we were right back where we started. It seemed we were destined to bicker constantly, no matter the circumstances or the setting. We fought over matters as simple as whose iPod to listen to on the long drive, as well as far more touchy subjects that made my stomach churn to even think about. If I were to be honest, I fucking _hated_ the way things were between us, but they’d been this way for so long that I didn’t know how to change. 

When I found myself in front of Isaac’s bedroom, I should have heeded the blaring voice of my conscience warning me not to do this. Instead, I didn’t listen (surprise, surprise) and was met with his tired face as he opened the door. 

"I talked to Taylor," I said, shoving my hands roughly into my pockets while refusing to meet his eyes. "He said to get some rest and we’ll meet up again in the morning. I gave him my word that I would be 100% focused on the music."

I raked a hand through my hair, unsurprised to find that it was a godforsaken mess just like the rest of me. Breathing out a heavy sigh, I finally looked up at him. 

"Look, can we just… get this over with?” 

Isaac seemed like he was torn between laughing and crying as he reluctantly stepped aside to let me in. I couldn’t blame him; I felt the same way. Part of me wanted to break into hysterical laughter, and the other part of me wanted to collapse into sobs and punch a hole through the fucking wall at the sad, depressing fact that we’d let this go so far.

“And here I was thinking you’d come here to apologize.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, sinking onto the bed as he shut the door and locked it.

“Yes. That’s exactly the heartfelt apology I was hoping for,” he replied sarcastically. 

I dragged a hand through my hair once more, giving it a hard tug this time to punish myself for the thoughts plaguing my brain. 

"I don't _want_ to want this, you know," I said, helplessly meeting his eyes as I extended my hand to him. 

“I know,” he said as he let me pull him toward the bed. “Neither do I.”

I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face against his chest and inhaling his familiar scent, hating myself even more once I did. I knew what had to be done to relieve the stress, and I knew that he would give it to me. 

"C'mere, let me show you how sorry I am," I murmured, drawing him in even closer.

Our lips met in a heated exchange, and much like our all-too-frequent spats in the studio, there was no clear winner or loser. At the end of the day, we were equals in this fucked-up power struggle, both of us imprisoned by our twisted desires. 

When he began to tug at the hemline of my shirt, I lifted my arms over my head, allowing him to undress me with equal parts lust and loathing. My jeans soon joined the pile of clothing on the floor, my heart rate picking up in a way that both thrilled and sickened me. 

"Please," I murmured against his mouth as we kissed again.

"Please what?"

"Ike, come on," I growled, grabbing a fistful of his hair in an attempt to hold him in place. "Stop being an asshole and just suck my dick. I said please."

“Oh, well in that case, your wish is my command,” he deadpanned.

His voice was still thick with sarcasm, but it was noticeably softer this time. I knew that he had to be struggling just as much as I was, if not more. As my older brother, he’d been born with the instinctual need to take care of me, but _this_ particular aspect of our relationship wasn’t in the job description. And still, he always complied, much like he did that very night, when he dropped slowly to his knees in front of me.

"I should have never accused you of fucking Taylor," he said.

A growl rose up from deep inside at the mention of what had sparked our last big fight. According to him, Taylor and I were acting “way too friendly” around each other on the road trip to El Paso, and instead of taking it in stride, he had delivered a low blow and called me a whore. He had crumbled in remorse immediately thereafter, saying that he didn’t mean it, that it was just the jealousy talking, but of course I had refused to accept his apology. But now, I had no choice but to let bygones be bygones. After all, it wasn’t as if I hadn’t made my fair share of cruel remarks about Isaac in retaliation.

"Taylor only cares about himself. He’d never help a brother out… especially not like this," I remarked with a snort.

When he leaned forward, I tilted my head back and stared at the ceiling, letting out a low moan when I felt his lips surround me.

“Fuck,” I rasped, my eyes falling closed because that was the only way I knew how to do this.

If I couldn’t see him, then it all became less real, less wrong, less sinful.

He was skilled in ways that no one would have ever suspected. He knew exactly how to please me, and once he started, he didn't let up until I was satisfied. 

"Yes… yes… fuck," I whimpered, feeling the tension slowly draining from my body. "I needed that. I needed _your_ mouth."

After taking a few moments to compose ourselves, I pulled my clothes back on and leaned in to press my lips briefly to his one last time. He never asked for anything more than a kiss in return. And for some reason, that was one line we kept firmly intact and never dared to cross. 

“Thanks, Ike,” I said quietly, rubbing my thumb along the creases by his eyes before dropping my hand back to my side. “Try to get some sleep, okay?”

"Yeah, you too,” he answered with a sigh, before flopping onto the bed and turning away from me. “Hey, can you hit the light on your way out?”

“Okay. ‘Night, Ike.”

“Goodnight, Zac.”

Then I flicked the light switch and stepped out into the deserted hallway, leaving both of us alone in the darkness.


End file.
